Ranting about: Silverbloods
by Alone in the blight
Summary: Yet another instalment of the series. Whisper treads a dark path for the person he loves the most. With every step, he loses a part of his humanity and it he continues onwards. Will the lady of whispers fullfils her promise or Will Whisper succumbs to a mere mindless slave losing his will to save his beloved?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: reading all the ranting about series is required to comprehend what is going on plus a daedra's promise.**

** . . .**

"Hey, you."

"…"

"Fellow Breton, wake up." Whisper slowly opened his sleepy orbs with a slight yawn. The carriage he hired in whiterun was more than comfortable in the rocky paths of the reach. "We are nearly there; you'd better stay away from the silver bloods."

"Why?" Whisper asked the carriage driver with little interest.

"There have been some clashes with the imperials and the forsworn in the last couple of month. The city is in unrest pouring her resources to-" a forsworn arrow prevented further words as it punctured the poor lad's neck and exited from the other end. The troubled horse met the same fate with five more arrows fired from the dense fog around them. Whisper on the other hand survived another volley by using his driver's dead shell as a flesh shield.

"For the reach!" cried a forsworn warrior whilst charging at Whisper from behind. The Breton used the driver's corpse for the last time and threw it on the charger. His ebony dagger made a clear statement that he was not to trifled with as it slit the unbalanced forsworn in an instance.

"Who's next?! I will be dammed if my life ends here!" he looked left and right in the ring of fog around him expecting more to attack. Two sprouted from the fog: a shaman woman and another warrior with a mighty axe in his right hand and forsworn sword in his other.

"Let's dance." First was the shaman, she first bolts of fire and thunder till the dual wielder would tangle with Whisper. Of them, a bolt of shock sent a numbing sensation in his right leg while another bolt of fire scourged his daggerless arm. He grunted in pain but he eventually swallowed it. As expected, Whisper carefully dodged the unplanned vulgar attacks of his foe making sure he is always out of the shaman's reach. The side and back steps proved to be the key of outbesting his foe with ease; all whisper had to do was to wait for a window … an opening.

The forsworn axe stuck in the wooden carriage from an unlucky swipe. It was his last as Whisper plunged his dagger in the reach man's bare chest. Getting to the pesky shaman was rather easy, her magicka reserve were almost dry when he approached "P-please d-"

He gutted her open like a fish showing no remorse or pity. "I am sick of this foreplay, show yourself or begone!" he expected another wave of rage but instead he heard an echoing applause. From the fog, came a pale forsworn with his heart exchanged for a magical object… a Briarheart.

"Well done outsider, you showed courage in facing my men. Tell me, what brings you to the Reach?"

"Rage, revenge and redemption… among other things." He bluntly said then his wits tangled in his next sentence "And the false ruler of the reach: the Silverbloods."

"Oh?" the forsworn leader was taken aback by surprise "Then, we have much to discuss…."

. . .

The city was livelier and colourful from his last visit. Now it reeked of grimness and oppression from the authority. He hadn't caught a glimpse of a smile across the dwemer streets of Markarth. "Haven't I seen you before outsider?" a guard focused on Whisper's pale complexion.

"I doubt it; I am here to work for the Silverbloods. I heard that they would use a hand or two after the mine's collapse." The dark whispers in his minds started possess his thoughts.

"How did you- bah! Just mind your own business, outsider." The collapse had occurred only yesterday; that'd why the guardsman was confused.

'_Rest assured, all will come to an end….' _

. . .


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I wasn't that surprised that the first chapter had only four was kind of expected, really.**

**Dedication : to my friend Aimee Wolv , have fun!**

** . . .**

Although Whisper's face had drastically changed across these five years, he wouldn't take the risk and stay in the SilverBlood inn; some may recognize him after the 'incidence'. Instead, he sought refuge at the warren. But first, he paid a visit to the Hag's cure.

"My, what had you gotten yourself into, fellow kinsman?" The old Breton shopkeeper known as Bothela noticed the burnt and slightly shaking limp.

"Silverblood thugs, toying with the new miners for their sick pleasure." His lies invoked anger in the old woman's eyes "I will see what I can do." She searched through a wooden cabinet for something. The next moment, she handled him a red flask.

"I am terribly sorry for your misfortunes, young man, tell you what? Have this potion on me… as welcoming gift to Markarth."

"Your generosity is beyond words, thank you." He cracked a smile before drinking the potion. The results were quite astounding; the burns were closing rapidly. He waved to the old lady before exiting the place.

The thin air there spoke of poorness and wretchedness in the skeever's den of a place to stay. Still, it felt kind of secure. Whisper poked around asking the miners about the city and her welfare for a small price.

The starless night slowly enveloped the skies, most of the miners slept but Whisper didn't; he instead went for a walk in the almost empty streets. "The streets are _ours _to roam at night, begone now, pest." He didn't notice the duo of guards strolling behind him. "But of course, keep on the marvelous work lads."

"Yeah, yeah, just piss off." The other – who was clearly drunk – shouted unexpectedly. Whisper was about to leave but the dark whispers in his head grew louder _**follow the corrupt**_. Whisper carefully tailed the two under the shadows. Luckily for him, one was drunk as a horker on skooma and the other probably lacked any sense of perception to notice. The two casually stopped at an empty stand and exchanged a troublesome conversation.

"I am going to the barracks now. Need anything Hildur?"

"Nahh, I am…" a rude burp cut off his drunken sentence "…am verrry good. In fact, I think I am going to _check on _Olina."

"By Dibella! The lass is only fourteen years old! Her parents had just by the forsworn two days ago! Have you no shame?!"

"I don't care! I want her now! Are you goin' to stop me or somethin'?"

"N-no… just don't make a mess or something; we obviously can't blame everything on the forsworn." With these words, they departed silently.

A grim look was drawn on Whisper's face; this wasn't how his plan would happen. He thought deeply in the matter but his thoughts were interrupted by a yell "Hey you!" the other guard who was heading for the barracks caught him "What are doing here? Were you… spying on us?"

He couldn't even reply when he guard quickly draw his steel sword and slashed his midsection. Whisper barely drew his dagger to deflect the vicious thrust but it so strong that it dislocated his wrist. A dance of dodges and parries was between them; Whisper was a bit nimble but he couldn't compete with such agility of his foe. A muffled girl scream echoed from behind.

_Damn, I must end this with haste _"Listen, we don't have fight! The blood of that girl will be on your hands!" but he failed to listen to reason. Whisper quickly back stepped to the empty stand behind him and pushed the wooden stand all over the guard entrapping him under it. "You son of a-" a thick stab in the windpipe ended the man's life. _Now, to find the girl._

'_Where is the girl's house?'_ he mentally asked the lady of whispers.

_**Why should I tell you? Don't tell me you have an actual sympathy towards this pesky mortal.**_ He ran left and right looking for any sign of breaking-in _**you mercilessly slit the kid's throat back in Falkreath, what is different now? **_

"Damn you Mephala!" He shouted out loud. By the shear amount of luck, he found a house with a broken door. He bashed through the door only to find the drunken man ramming the screeching little girl from behind.

"Y-YOU BASTARD!" Whisper tightened his grip on his dagger and stabbed him from behind numerous times. Hildur, however, was a giant of a man in size and so he turned in a tick knocking the dagger from his hand. Whisper felt he crushing grasp on his neck, he tried to push the huge guard but his strength was diminished in comparison to Hildur.

"Death a-" the guards collapsed on the flour when the Olina grabbed Whisper's dagger and stabbed him endlessly to express the burning pain inside her soul. Even after the man's death, she continued the carnage. Whisper grabbed her shaking head "That's enough…"

"He…he-"she started to cry from her gruesome experience. Whisper gave her his shoulder to cry on "it's alright…it's alright." They stayed like that for minutes till she relatively calmed down. Unfortunately, a squad of guards stormed into the bloody scene.

"Who-o did this? Speak you little harlot!"

"Hildur rap-"Whisper cut her off by clearing his throat "I killed him, while he was raping this youngling. She has nothing to do with this. _S_hould any one of you filthy guard touch his girl, the city will eat you alive." His menacing voice was more than enough to let her go.

"You will rot in Cidhna mines. Come with us, scum."

"_That is what I intended to do…."_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: well I am basically writing for you, Amine Wolv. And I am glad that you give me enough encouragement to continue writing c:**

** . . .**

"Luckily for you, we are running out of miners; otherwise, i would personally kill you." The ugliest orc –even for their standards- shoved Whisper down the chilly shaft and closed the Iron Gate behind him. Cutthroats, thieves and other colours of criminals awaited him. "So you are the maggot who killed Hildur?"

"Guilty as charged." Whisper replied quietly to a relatively huge half-naked Argonian who approached him baring his crooked teeth. The signs of angers morphed into those of gratefulness "_No one _lays a hand on this Breton or else…" the crowd mumbling huskily before dispersing for sight.

"Thank, friend. Did he do something to you?"

"That bastard cut my tail for a starter, hence the name No-tail Mizar stuck on me." he pointed to his rear "then, he locked me up here for running a skooma ring in the reach , Tsk! That was three years ago… Now I am kind of the ruler of the mine with the king in rags; I provide order here while Zanath is knows everything about anything. "

"Zanath?"

"Yeah, over there." No-tail pointed again to a dark corner in a dead end. "She is not to be taken lightly, hear? I must go now, farewell." The Argonian left Whisper alone to mine more silver – probably.

Whisper slowly walked to the shadowy end hearing the non-stoppable noises of Axe-picking. He ought to get used to this annoying sound then again, if his plan succeeded, he will be one step closer to Lady Echo.

"_Prove you worth."_ A raspy voice slithered for the shades. Whisper didn't even have the chance to start the conversation. "Excuse me?"

"_I said: prove your worth, Whisper." _the croaked voice surprised Whisper greatly; how in the blazes did she know his name?

"Alright, what do I have to do?" from the darkness, two burnt hands held two iron mugs. Each with a volatile oozy liquid dripping on the ground "_One of them contains a deadly poison, the other is but harmless_. _Choose carefully lest it would be your last."_

Whisper closed his eyes and sought his mistress' guidance. For the first time, the whispers in his mind were… vague and undefined. He couldn't interpret a single word.

Then the whispers grew louder.

Whispers, _shouts, __**shrieks**_ and wails boomed in his head. It felt as if thousands were arguing inside his head. Blood started to trickle from his nostrils and ears even his eyes. He was at the brink of death when all was silent.

"_Hmph, so you are not a pawn after all." _The vague woman showed frustration in her words _"How does it feel? To be free of Daedra's control even for mere minutes? Now, prove __**your**__ worth_."

The hidden burden in the Breton's mind was gone. Even in his years of solitude after killing Echo, he was still chained by the lady of whispers. He wiped off the blood on his face "You know my curse…know… knowledge…you must be a Mora's Worshipper."

The shadowy figure remained silent "you are not here to play a game of luck or hunches with me. You play mind games with me, am I right?" his deduction was met by another period of silence. He grabbed the two mugs and started them for a second or two before throwing their content on the ground.

"_Both_ are poisoned." He proudly stated and waited for a reply. He was taken back when the woman came out of the shadow revealing a face-burnt red guard with hallowed eyes and a bald head all wrapped in a dirty black robe "_Well done, well done. I wasn't that smart when Mora offered me a way out of his… domain._"

"He did this to you?" she chuckled briefly leaving him clueless. "_No, the elder scroll did."_ Whisper was struck by lightning; how such a powerful thing lied in the hands or a mere mortal?

"_He….erased my memory as punishment._" She paused, smiling with her lipless mouth _"but I prepared for such treachery. It took me years to regain my knowledge to its former glory. In the recent memories, I discovered that I actually stole and hid a small parchment tucked away in Mora's black library. Eventually, I recovered it. Upon seeing it, I became…. This."_

"I am sorry fo-"

"_A sea of knowledge. Past, present, future all entangled together in a lovely mess." _her reply was totally different from what he was about to say "this_ particular parchment was mainly associated with the daedra and their …. Dark, dark secrets. that's how I was able to hide myself from Mora's wrath and isolate you from your wretched mistress."_

Whisper, unbelieving, blinked with an open jaw "Y-you can do that?"

"_I can do even more… just promise me to escort me safety out of Markarth and I will show you… how to kill a daedra."_

_ . . ._


End file.
